


Being Pregnant Is A Very Good Excuse

by EverTheDreamer



Category: Life Goes On
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-12
Updated: 2008-11-11
Packaged: 2017-10-18 01:17:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverTheDreamer/pseuds/EverTheDreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Libby knew she was pregnant. She knew the morning after, she knew all three weeks since it had happened, and she knew now. She hadn’t missed her period yet, so she hadn’t taken the test. But she knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She could feel the words bubbling up in her throat as Drew held her in his arms, "Drew, I-I-" And then they wouldn't come. She felt safe in his arms, cocooned from everything that could possibly go wrong. Out of everyone in her life, she knew she could trust him to support her. She didn't know why the words wouldn't come. It wasn't as if she was uncertain. She knew, had the suspicion. She could tell the second it happened.

Well… Not the exact second. That particular second, she was … Distracted, to say the least. But she knew by the time she woke up the next morning. Even before she saw the signs, she knew. But she didn't want to say anything. What if she was wrong? What if something bad happened? After all, she wasn't twenty anymore. No, far from it. She was celebrating her forty-first birthday. At her age, something could easily go wrong, she could easily be misinterpreting the signs…

But she knew she wasn't. She _knew_ she was pregnant. She knew the morning after, she knew all three weeks since it had happened, and she knew now. She hadn't missed her period yet, so she hadn't taken the test. But she _knew_.

Her breasts felt heavy, were constantly sore. And it was getting worse. It hurt to even wear a bra anymore. She could feel her uterus expanding, bringing cramps with it as it prepared to house another child. She'd been constantly moody, had lashed out at Drew for reasons neither of them understood as she cried in confused anger and sadness.

But she did understand. It was all the hormones flourishing in her body. And she was _tired._ All the time. She just wanted to sleep. But there was so much to _do_! Drew's restaurant, Corky, Becca, Paige. She didn't have time to sleep.

And she hadn't told Drew yet. That's what was troubling her most of all. She didn't want to get his hopes up if anything went wrong. But she knew that he'd noticed _something_. She didn't know how much he knew, but she knew that he knew something.

"What is it, honey?" he asked, instantly concerned. He held her at arm's length, his eyes searching hers. "What?"

"Honey, I-" And the words still wouldn't come. She shook her head, smiling softly as her hand covered her still-flat stomach. "Nothing."

"Lib, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she could practically _feel_ this new addition to their family growing inside her even now. "Nothing's wrong. Everything's great. Perfect." She smiled again, bringing her lips to his before patting his cheek gently.

"What were you gonna say, Lib? You know you can tell me," he told her, his breath warm in her ear as he tugged her against his chest.

Her lips tugged into a smile, part of her almost expecting him to know what she was thinking. His arms were folded across her chest and she took one of his hands in her own, trailing it across her body as she hoped he could feel what she felt. She ran his hand over her sensitive breasts, hoping he could feel how much fuller they already were, before settling his palm on her lower stomach. "Just…" she sighed, searching for the right words to lead him in the right direction. "I feel like something big is about to happen, something great! Don't you feel it?"

Libby could feel him breathe evenly against her back, could almost hear as he tried to figure out what she was telling him. She took his other hand, kissing his palm before having it follow the other's path, feeling the heaviness of her breasts before settling it on her stomach with his other hand.

"What-what are…" Drew faltered, clearly unsure as to where she was getting at. He exhaled slowly as she smiled in front of him, realizing what he thought she was trying to say.

She turned around, pressing herself flush against him as she tiptoed to press her lips to his again and slipped her arms around his neck to pull his mouth hard against hers. "Don't you feel it, honey? Can't you just tell that something is about to happen? Something… Drew, honey, don't you-don't you _feel_ it?" She'd thought the whole time that he knew, suspected, as she had. Now, even though she worried what might happen, she still wanted him to know.

He was smirking when he answered, "I feel something." He was pulling her closer, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

She smiled in return, "Honey, I'm serious. I thought-You don't _feel_ it?"

"Feel _what_?" he asked, laughing.

Libby sighed, shrugging and burying her face in her husband's robe, "Never mind, Drew. Let's just get some sleep. I'm tired." Dejected, she pulled out of his embrace, her hand resting on her taut stomach again. She pulled the corner of the sheets down, sitting before she slipped her feet beneath the covers. Smiling sadly, she reached to turn her lamp off as she settled against the pillows.

She thought he knew, thought he could tell as she had been able to. But, she supposed it was too much to expect of him. According to medical knowledge, she shouldn't know. She hadn't taken a test, hadn't seen a doctor about it, so she really shouldn't know

Drew flicked her light back on, sitting beside her on their bed, "What is it, Libby? What's going on? What do you _feel_?"

She shook her head again, shrugging and turning over so her back was to him.

"Lib! What is it?" he rolled her back to face him. "What's going on?"

She followed her earlier instincts, taking his hands in hers and leading them to her breasts so he was cupping them, their fuller weight supported in his palms. She stared at him, her eyes pleading with him to understand as she led one of his hands away from her breasts to her stomach, flattening his palm across where she could feel their baby growing. "Can't you tell? Don't you _feel_ it?"

His hand twitched as he held her breast, making her flinch and moan quietly as a sudden wave of pleasure rolled over her from the heightened sensitivity of her breasts.

"Libby, what-"

She crashed her full lips against his as she held his hand to her stomach with both of hers. She pushed him flush against the bed, straddling him as she deepened the kiss. She ground her hips down against his, her voice almost a moan when she spoke against his lips, "Drew, honey, I love you so much."

Libby wanted to tell her husband. No, that was a lie. She didn't want to have to tell him. She wanted Drew to just _know._

"What is it, Lib?" he breathed when she broke their kiss to leave a hot trail of kisses down his neck as her fingers quickly untied the sash of his robe. "What's _wrong?_ "

She didn't answer him. She was too busy pushing his t-shirt slowly up his stomach and lavishing the newly exposed skin in hot kisses. Her full lips brushed she shell of his ear when she couldn't push his shirt any farther up, "Off."

"What? Libby-"

"Off," she repeated, her voice practically coming out as a growl as her raging hormones took complete control of her. She tugged at his robe and his shirt, trying to make her point.

"Libby, honey, just tell me what's going on," Drew begged, his curiosity and need for her competing. She ground her hips hard against his again and his need for her won out. He rolled them over so she was on her back, making her squeal happily.

She sat up on her knees to help push his robe down his arms before helping to pull his shirt over his head. "Oh, Drew!" she murmured against his neck as she ran her hands up and down the landscape of his chest. "Honey, I love you." She pushed insistently at the waistband of his pajama pants and boxers as she pressed her lips desperately against his.

Drew pulled her nightdress up in fistfuls before pulling it over her head and tossing it beside them. His head dropped to her breasts, kissing the hardened, rosy bud of one as his palm covered the other. She moaned quietly in response, her head lolling back as her hands flew to his neck to increase the pressure of his mouth against her hypersensitive breasts. "Mmmm, Drew!"

"Libby, what's wrong?" he asked, desperately confused. When he had looked up at her, a small smile on his face, he saw that tears rolling down her cheeks as she moaned and panted quietly.

"Please, Drew," she whimpered, pulling his mouth hard against her breast again. She trailed her free hand down his chest to rub the growing bulge in his pajama pants, drawing a rumbling groan from him.

He flicked his tongue across her erect nipple before closing his lips around it, his teeth lightly grazing the hardened peak and making her whimper again as he guided her body down against their soft pillows. He continued covering her breasts in soft kisses, nipping softly and making her groan to distract her as he slid her underwear down her legs before doing the same with his own underwear.

Leaning between her thighs, Drew captured her lips in a fierce kiss, grinding his palm against her breast and making her moan into his mouth as he gingerly slid into her velvet heat. Instantly, her fingers were digging into his biceps as she gasped and panted. The pace he set was cruelly slow, making her forget how to breathe as she arched against him, whimpered moans slipping from her mouth, directly into his.

"Drew-Drew!" she moaned, breaking the kiss as her head lolled back. He found her pulse point and sucked at it roughly as she wrapped her legs around his waist and clenched him between her thighs, forcing him deeper. "Aaaahh!" she cried, her moan dissolving into soft whimpers. "Oh, God! Oh!"

Libby was vaguely aware of her husband's soft groans as he called her name, his pace becoming less measured, his thrusts more sporadic as he neared his own climax. Her muscles, her velvet heat, were contracting around his length as he pushed himself further into her, making both of them cry out. She was whimpering, holding back moans for the sake of their children, as she drew in a shuddering breath. She gasped sharply, arching against him and squeezing him between her thighs as he spilled into her, feeling hot liquid coarse through her. She bit her lip, her eyes clenched shut, as she felt herself teetering on that white-hot peak, only a breath away from falling. "Dr-Drew!" she gasped, stars of every color swimming behind her eyes as her husband relaxed atop her, his dead weight putting delicious amounts of pressure on her throbbing clitoris. Her nails dug into his biceps as she fell, shuddering and gasping and whimpering, into her climax.

They fell silent, the only sound being that of their overworked lungs dragging in and expelling air at a pace that was still much too fast to be considered normal.

"Please, Drew, tell me you feel it, tell me you've noticed," she finally whispered, threading her fingers through his hair.

He hesitated as his eyes met hers, not wanting to upset her, "Honey, I-um, I don't know what to say. Noticed what, babe? I've noticed that you've been acting different, but-"

"Yes! Exactly! Acting like…" she prompted.

"You're crazy?"

She exhaled, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, dejected, "Never mind, Drew."

"Really, honey, tell me what's wrong. I wanna know but.. I can't read your mind, Lib," he sighed, rolling off of her and running his hands through his hair.

"It's just… I thought you would know. I thought you could _feel_ it, like I do," she sighed, wringing her hands over her stomach. Tears were rolling down her cheeks now and she knew it was the pregnancy, that she wasn't really this upset.

"Babe, what _is_ it?" Drew asked, almost frantic. He sat up and turned her face to look at him by her chin. "Just tell me!"

"I'm pregnant!" she yelled, her volume matching his as she looked at him.

"… Wh-What?" he stuttered, his jaw dropping in surprise as his hands fell limply to his side.

She was looking back at her hands again when she answered, whispering, "I think I might be- I'm pregnant."

"You're pregnant? We-We're pregnant? We're having another baby?" his shock quickly turning to joy as a smile spread across his face.

She nodded feebly, still staring at her hands, "I think so."

"Well, what's wrong?"

"I-We don't have the money for another baby. And-And, Drew! I'm so old!" she cried.

"No, no you're not!" he hugged her to him. "You're not old, Lib."

"Yes, I am! And what about the baby? What if something happens? Drew, we're too old for another baby. My _body_ is too old for another baby! What if we miscarry?" she sobbed into his chest, clutching him tightly.

"Shhh, Libby, it's okay. Money doesn't matter. We'll make it. We always have, haven't we?" he felt her nod against his chest, so he continued. "And you've never had a problem with pregnancies before, right? You carried Corky and Becca both full term with no problems. And you're not old! We can handle another baby just fine. And the baby will be fine cause it's gonna be born into a happy, loving family. Okay?"

She sniffed, wiping her nose and eyes with the back of her hand, before nodding and curling against him again.

"How far along?"

"Three weeks," she whispered as he ran his fingers though her hair.

"You didn't take a test?"

"I don't even know if a test could catch it yet," she snorted, scooting over and laying back against the pillows. "I just… I _know,_ Drew. I can feel him." She pointed to her stomach with the index finger of one hand as she took her husband's hand with the other and led it to her stomach. "I can _feel_ him, Drew. Can't you?"

He smiled, nodding to pacify her, "I can feel him. That's our baby, Lib."

She smiled back at him, curling against him as both their hands rested on her still-flat stomach, "I love you so much, Drew."

She was asleep before he could answer with his, "I love you, too, Libby."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She smiled, a hand subconsciously going to her flat stomach as she walked into the kitchen. "Good morning," she chimed, grabbing the teapot.

  


She smiled, a hand subconsciously going to her flat stomach as she walked into the kitchen. "Good morning," she chimed, grabbing the teapot.

"… Mom," Becca intoned quietly, not meeting her eyes.

She stopped, her eyes narrowing in confusion as turned to look at her daughter. "Honey, is something wrong?"

She shot a glance at her brother before staring back at her plate, shaking her head, "No."

She let out a slow stream of air, putting the kettle down before sitting down opposite her daughter. "Becca? Sweetie?" She reached out, taking her daughter's hand. "What _is_ it?"

Becca ripped her hand away, dropping it to her lap and shaking her head. "Were you even gonna _tell_ us, Mom?"

"Tell you? Tell you what?" Libby laughed.

"You're _pregnant_ ," she accused, her eyes dark.

"Wh- _what_?" she stuttered, confused. She reeled back in her seat, blinking in confusion.

How did she _know_?

 _She_ shouldn't even know, by all medical standards. How did _Becca_ know?

" _Aren't_ you?"

"I-"

" _Aren't you_!" Becca repeated, throwing her fork down.

"Rebecca!" Libby gasped. "I will not be spoken to like that!"

She sucked on the inside of her cheek, looking away and pushing away from the table. She shook her head, starting away, "Whatever."

" _Rebecca_ ," she repeated sternly, standing up as well. "You _do not_ speak to me that way. And you _will not_ walk away from me. Do you understand me?"

She shrugged noncommittally, starting away again.

Libby grabbed her arm, spinning her roughly to face her. "Rebecca Thatcher, _do you understand me_?"

" _Fine_."

She shook her head, biting her own tongue before sighing, "Just… Go to school," she waved her off, sitting at the table again.

"… How long have you been keeping it from us?" Becca demanded, stepping closer. "How _long_ have you been lying to us, Mom?"

"Rebecca, stop it this instant. I have not been _lying_ to you!"

"You've been keeping secrets," she shot back. "And that's just as bad."

"Keeping secrets?" Libby repeated, almost laughing.

"Don't laugh! You and dad decide to change the _whole family_ and you don't even ask us!" she yelled, standing behind her. "Like we don't even _matter_. And then you _laugh_ about the secrets you kept from us! It affects us, too, mom!"

She shook her head in disbelief, running her fingers through her hair. "Your father and I _haven't_ been keeping secrets. And we're _not_ changing the whole family," she sighed, turning to look at her. "…I'm _three weeks along_. I haven't even taken a _test_ yet. I might not even really _be_ pregnant."

"Oh, of _course_ you are! You know you are. You told dad last night. _I heard you_. I _heard_ you tell him how _certain_ you are! … And just _where_ are we gonna get the money? What about _college_ , mom?" she shook her head, stifling a growl. "I can't believe you did this… We were _fine_ the way we were."

Libby forced herself to swallow, nodding as she stared at her hands. "… Corky, do you feel the same way?"

He shot a look at his sister before shrugging and looking back at his own plate. "I don't really mind about the baby."

She wiped the tears from her eyes before they could escape her. Managing a small smile, she reached across the table to take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

"… Traitor," Becca whispered before turning away. "Come on, Cork. We have to _go to school_. Maybe if we're lucky, mom and dad won't decide to _move_ while we're at school."

"Rebecca," she sang, her voice carrying a note of warning.

"Yeah, yeah. We're _going_."

Libby let out a sigh as she heard the front door open and close, dropping her head to the table and letting out the tears she'd stifled.

* * *

  
"Lib! Libby! Look what I made for the baby!" Drew carried in a brightly painted high-chair, a wide smile on his face. "Do you l- Lib? What's wrong?"

She shook her head, hugging the pillow tighter against her stomach and crying loudly.

He put the chair down, perching on the corner of the bed and running a hand lightly up her back, "Libby, honey? What's wrong?"

She dropped the pillow in favor of throwing her arms around him, crying harder. "D-Drew! I-I don't- And she- We're not-!"

Wide-eyed, he ran his fingers through her hair, hugging her close, "Shhh, it's okay... Calm down and tell me what's wrong, honey."

She shook her head again, her body trembling as she tried to stop crying.

He ran one hand down her side, covering her stomach, "Is it the baby? Did something happen?"

"Wh-what? Why-why would you _ask_ that?" Libby stuttered, pulling away from him and wiping her eyes.

"Well, it's just that you're upset and-"

"You _want_ something to happen to the baby, don't you!" she accused, pushing him away. "You don't want him! You wish I'd never gotten pregnant!" She wrapped her arms around her middle, throwing herself at the pillows and crying loudly.

"Libby-"

"Don't touch me!" she yelled, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "You don't want _our baby_! I can't believe you don't _want_ him!"

"Honey, I _never_ said that! Of course I w-"

"Don't lie to me!" she interrupted, screeching. "Don't you _dare_ _lie_ to me, Andrew! And don't think for _one second_ that I'm not gonna have this baby. He is a _part_ of us! How can you be so _heartless!_ "

Drew sighed and pulled her against his chest, wrapping both arms around her and holding her tightly, "Shhh, honey... It's okay... Let it out, Lib."

Her hands balled up into fists, pounding against his arms and chest as she tried to pull away. "N- _No_! Don't touch me! Don't-" Her voice broke off in a sob and she collapsed against him.

"Shhh," he repeated, rocking her gently and running his fingers through her hair again. "It's okay, baby... You wanna tell me what's wrong?"

Her fingers fisted in his shirt and she shook her head against him, her voice catching in her throat.

"It's okay, Lib," he soothed.

"B-Becca," she managed, burying her face against him. "She- Oh, Drew, honey, are we doing the right thing?"

"Of _course_ we are, honey," he whispered, running his hands up and down her back. "What did she say? Do you want me to talk to her?"

"No," she whined, gripping his shirt tighter. "No, stay with me. Just-just _hold_ me, Drew."

He nodded, squeezing her tightly to reassure her.

"... Is it _selfish_ of us to want another baby?" Libby breathed, pulling her face away enough so that she could look into his eyes. "Is it-Drew, is it _wrong_?"

" _No_ ," he answered, his voice stern and serious. "Libby, look at me— _look at me_ : We are doing the _right thing_. Okay? There is nothing wrong with us wanting another baby. There is nothing wrong with us _having_ another baby. How can it be wrong to want to give something life? To want to love something?" He squeezed her again, "It's not wrong, Lib. It isn't _selfish_."

"Oh, Drew," she managed, burying her face against him.

"... Are you okay?" he whispered, waiting until her crying had quieted some. She nodded and scooted closer. "Are you sure you don't want me to talk to Becca?"

She shook her head, blinking up at him with her rich, chocolate, do eyes. "No... No, I will. Tomorrow. … Or maybe Friday. Or-"

"Honey," he laughed, gently cupping her cheek and wiping a tear away with his thumb. "You don't _have_ to. I can do it if you want."

"No... No, I should do it. She-she's mad at _me_ , Drew. I'll talk to her."

" _Mad_ at you?" he echoed, confused. "Wh- _why_?"

"Cause we didn't _talk_ to her. She feels like we're _changing_ everything without even consulting her. … She blames me," she whispered.

"Didn't _talk_ to her? We didn't even _plan_ this! We didn't _talk_ at all!"

"What are you saying, Drew? Do you blame me too?" she pulled out of his grip, her eyes darkening. "Are you saying that _I_ planned this? Like I did this on my own!"

" _No_ ," he answered immediately, reaching for her.

"No, don't touch me, Drew. You think I did this on my own! I couldn't do that even if I _wanted_ to!"

"Honey, you're hysterical," he said, raising his hands in surrender. "Please calm down."

"Don't you _dare_ tell me to calm down, Andrew Thatcher!" she snarled, standing up so she could glare down at him. "I am not hysterical! I am perfectly rational!"

"Honey, baby, Lib... I'm sorry," he changed his tactics. "That's not what I meant. At all. I'm not saying you planned this at all. And I want this baby, too."

"... Did _you_ plan this?" she demanded, her eyes momentarily going wide. "Did you _plan_ to get me pregnant without even _consulting_ me? Andrew, this is _my_ body! You can't just... _Do_ that!"

"No! Libby, that's not what I meant!"

"... Get out."

"What?" he blinked, completely taken aback.

"I said get. Out," she pointed at their bedroom door.

"Lib-"

"GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!" she screamed, tears welling in her eyes. She pointed at the door again.

"Libby, I'm not leaving. Talk to me, honey," Drew pleaded, grabbing her hand and pulling her back to the bed.

"DON'T TOUCH ME! I SAID GET OUT!" she yelled. She grabbed her pillow, hitting him with it to enunciate each word. "GET OUT!"

"Mom?" Corky asked, pushing their door open a crack to peer in.

Arnold quickly pushed the door open, leaping onto their bed and growling playfully at Drew as he climbed on top of him.

"CORKY!" Libby threw herself into her son's arms, breaking down in tears.

"What's wrong with mom?" he asked, hugging her back in confusion.

"She's— _ow_! Arnold! No! She's _pregnant_ ," Drew sighed.

"SHUT UP!" she sobbed, turning to yell at her husband. "That-That is _not_ why I'm _—Ugh!_ I can't even _talk_ to you Andrew!" She hurried into the bathroom, locking the door behind herself and crying loudly.

Drew nodded, letting out a slow sigh. "Well, Cork, there comes a time in every father-to-be's life when he realizes that the eighteen years _raising_ the child is _easy_ when compared to nine months before she's born. … You wouldn't remember cause you were too young when Becca was born. But this, Cork..." He clapped a hand on Corky's thigh. "This is good for your mother. She was worse last time."

Corky nodded as though he understood, patting his father's thigh in imitation.

"I CAN _HEAR_ YOU!" Libby roared from the bathroom.

"Well, dad... You're on your own. Come on, Arnold," Corky got up, scurrying past the bathroom door and into his own room again, the family dog hot on his heels.

  



End file.
